


Hello

by BeetleQueen



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Condoms, Fantasizing, Headaches & Migraines, I'll give the guy his own smutfic one day tbh, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Man, Pining, Post-Coital Cuddling, Power Bottom, Riding, Rose Bashing, Scars, Smoking, Teasing, because hey why not, even high powered chairmen, everyone deserves a little somethin' somethin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22434886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeetleQueen/pseuds/BeetleQueen
Summary: I've been alone with you inside my mindAnd in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand timesI sometimes see you pass outside my doorHello, is it me you're looking for?//Just another fic where I explore the obvious, overdone, yet satisfying angle of an old man thinking he's past it, and a young dragon tamer pursuing him anyway.
Relationships: Kabu/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 39
Kudos: 214





	Hello

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. idk if anyone outside of the UK will get the Parker Pen joke so I'll explain it now. Basically there are adverts on tv all the time about life insurance policies, and when you take one out you get a free Parker Pen. It... sounded funnier in my head :[  
> 2\. fit/fit as fuck = uk slang for sexy/hot/etc  
> 3\. if Leon is a massive himbo, the only alternative is for Raihan to be the secret hot nerd. Maybe he glowed up really late who knows??

Raihan loves these cold January mornings. Puffs of breath leave his mouth like smoke, and he feels he looks the part — Raihan, tamer of dragons. He encourages the rumours from young challengers that he is part dragon too.

His height and pointed canines only serve to add to the rumours; fuel to the fire.

The fire Raihan breathes because he’s totally part dragon.

It was colder now than it had been over Christmas. That unusually warm Christmas.

Rose keeps banging on about climate change — as if he’s done anything to actually help offset it. As if he hasn’t actually just banned plastic cutlery and straws instead of taking accountability for the crap all of his companies spew out and into the atmosphere.

Weezing is a consequence of that, it’s entire body chemistry changing over a century to filter pollution into clean air. Rose could have hundreds of them stationed in and out of his factories, his businesses. But he doesn’t.

There’s something about Rose that rankles with him. Something about a man that everyone loves and blindly supports doing the bare minimum whilst everything around him turns to shit.

Just your average politician, really.

Raihan puffs out another gust of air-turned-fog, laughing when a small child points in awe as they pass, tugging their father’s hand. Raihan does his trademark dragon pose for them then.

There’s not much he can do about the state of the world. But he can make kids smile, and that’s good enough for Raihan.

It’s a quiet early morning in Hammerlocke, and this is the time Raihan goes for a walk. Less chance of being bugged for selfies, or running into paps at this hour. Just the odd excited school kid, and—

Kabu?

The ever-burning man of fire comes to a stop in front of him, cheeks rosy from the cold, and the morning jog he’s halfway through.

“Good morning.”

Kabu says those words like he means them. Because he does. That friendly smile is never forced. And coupled with that pink face...

“M-Morning..!” He hopes that Kabu just thinks he’s cold. Not shivering for any other reason.

He can feel his nose start to drip. The _betrayal_. Raihan sniffs, embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

“Don’t see you jogging round these parts too often...” Raihan is voicing his own thoughts at this point. Kabu usually sticks to the wild area. Not that he follows that kind of news in the papers, and sneaks a peek out of his bedroom window at around five in the morning to watch him cross the bridge between Turffield and Hulbury... Because that would be weird.

“There’s quicksand in the dusty bowl. All that rain from last week, probably...” Raihan’s eyebrows shoot up. That’s definitely strange. Then again the entire wild area is strange. Used to be that there was only one form of weather covering the place. Now it fluctuates by the hour.

Raihan wonders if he’ll live to see the end of the world.

That’s a downer.

He doesn’t know how his tongue manages to form around enough words to invite Kabu for coffee, but somehow it does, and the two of them are walking amiably towards the ‘great little place’ Raihan says he knows.

* * *

Of course Kabu drinks tea, Raihan thinks watching the man sip from a large mug of the green stuff. Health freak, he thinks adding six more sugar packets to his triple shot mocha.

Kabu watches the youth’s face twist in disgust but also with some interest as he eyes the green tea.

“Have you ever tried it..?” Kabu’s voice is playful. Raihan’s cock jolts.

That’s not fair.

“No.” Raihan stirs his sugary abomination. “Have you ever tried one of _these?”_ He counters.

“I haven’t.” Kabu gives the drink in question an unimpressed look. “Then again, I never saw the appeal in developing diabetes...”

Raihan scoffs. Kabu scoffs back.

It’s nice.

After a moment of silence, Raihan just has to break it.

“I bet you’ve got one of those junk food drawers at home full of chocolate.” Kabu has to be human. The alternative is just too frightening otherwise — eating healthy food because he likes the way it tastes?

Unacceptable.

“Not full of _chocolate.”_ The veteran says carefully. It’s as much as Raihan is getting out of him.

Premium Lava Cookies are Kabu’s only weakness; a taste of home in this foreign land. A reminder of his youth, and his roots; of hot springs and festivals.

Raihan is still eying Kabu’s tea.

“Try some—“

“No—!”

“ _Scared?”_

Raihan sits a little straighter.

“Not at all.”

He grabs Kabu’s mug, ignores that smug lopsided grin, and takes a sip.

He’s sure there’s a bouquet in here somewhere. Something delicate and floral. Sophisticated.

Except all he can taste is hot bitter water.

“Well that’s revolting...” He sips from his own mug to kill the taste of it. Raihan then slides said mug across the table. “Only fair...”

Kabu’s smirk falters. Definitely not a good idea.

Except the veteran is never one to back down from a fight, and he’s soon taking a larger sip than Raihan had. Because Kabu always wins.

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Well..?” He probably loves it.

“Atrocious.”

Probably not, then.

Raihan watches Kabu from across the table. Calm, stoic, dignified. But also cute as a button with a crooked smile that knocks the wind out of him.

If only Raihan was a little older, he thinks to himself. Maybe he and Kabu would have a chance in that hypothetical universe...

Kabu pretends he can’t see Raihan staring. His eyes flick up every so often, catching him in the act. Kabu hates himself for looking away. Hates how weak he feels.

So the next time it happens he's holding that gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching when Raihan is the one to nervously break eye contact.

Much better. Kabu always wins after all.

He takes a sip of tea. Ideally he’d be on his way home by now to take a bath. A very long hot bath. Except Raihan’s hopeful little face had rooted him to the spot, agreeing to a date—

This isn’t a date.

Kabu rarely feels self conscious; but after a jog, armpits clearly soaked, and his hair tousled from the elements? He can smell himself; knows Raihan probably can, but hopes not.

Raihan can, of course. And is conflicted. Conflicted because he himself always smells like he’s just tumbled out of the nearest department store.

Raihan is shaved, washed, deodorised; and above all else, perfumed. Raihan hates the feeling of sweat. The smell. Hates the concept.

Except Mister Kabu gets a pass.

Why does Mister Kabu get a pass..?

Probably because in this moment there’s an air of human about him. Kabu sweats. Kabu hums little tunes to himself when he thinks no one’s listening. Kabu misses that spot on his chin shaving.

Kabu is human.

Kabu has no idea that Raihan’s thoughts now involve pressing his mouth and nose into those pits and huffing deeply dick in hand.

_What the fuck is happening to me..._

Raihan stirs the lumpy cream in his half finished coffee, pondering. Knows under the table that he’s half hard, and to stop having these thoughts in public Right Now.

Because a semi is something a lot of men can hide if they’re clever. But in Raihan’s case the task isn’t nearly so straight forward...

He thinks about naked Opal rollerskating, and feels himself wilt. Almost there. A hairy Chairman Rose brings up the rear in a bikini, and yup— flaccid again. Thank Arceus...

Raihan hasn’t felt this stupidly horny in years. Hasn’t had a belly full of Butterfree from something as chaste as a soft smile and a lingering look across a coffee table.

This crush on Kabu isn't a recent development. He remembers exactly when it had happened.

The ever-burning man of fire had been across from him in the gym. Leon had dragged Raihan along a few years ago. The reason? He was desperate to get his friend in shape.

Raihan had won the genetic lottery. And though he was strong and lean, he wasn’t anywhere near the level of physical fitness that his rival was. And so he agreed when Leon brandished a day pass in his face.

“If it’ll shut you up.” Raihan had said.

Upon entering the gym, his eyes went past everyone and everything in the building, landing squarely on Motostoke's gym leader.

Looking back on it, had this been a movie maybe that one Lionel Richie song would’ve played out over the scene.

Kabu in shorter shorts than usual. Thighs thick and bulging with muscle as he held an impossibly large barbell over his head.

Squatting.

Raihan slack jawed and absolutely glued to the spot, unable to look away as the man stands up straight, turns and spots him. Wipes the sweat from his brow with a kind smile, and waves.

_Hello. Is it me your looking for?_

Kabu has to be at least fifty.

Raihan is in his mid twenties, but likes to think he’s mature for it. Embarrassment prickles his cheeks when he realises that's what girls younger than him say about their older than appropriate boyfriends.

Not a train of thought he should be going down right now.

“You know you’re the fittest gym leader in Galar, right?” Raihan says carefully. If Kabu takes it the way he meant it, he’ll just lie and say he was talking about actual fitness levels.

“I don’t know about that.” Kabu’s expression suddenly becomes unreadable. He finishes his tea. Raihan’s leg bounces under the table.

“Bet you take rest days? Leon’s always banging on about those.” And he is. One day a week at least where Galar's Champion does nothing but take it easy and eat the bad things. The fucker still loses weight somehow.

“Yes.” Kabu is swirling the tea leaves in the bottom of his mug. They stick in the shape of a heart. He swirls them again and they do the same. Probably a calcium deposit due to improper cleaning. He should complain about the state of these cups. He won’t. “Why the sudden interest? Thinking of joining?” The gym. Kabu had meant to say the gym.

Raihan makes a soft noise, and decides on a change of subject. Before his dick gets hard again.

They talk about dragons, and fire, and how Raihan thinks they would make a poetic pair in doubles matches.

Kabu wants to agree. Dragons and fire? Yes, its a match made in heaven — a formidable force on the battlefield. He nearly says it, but stops himself.

He’s too old to kid himself anymore. Raihan is just being friendly.

Humouring an old man.

Kabu blinks. Blinks again. One half of his field of vision is starting to... blur?

Realisation sets in.

No. No no no, not today.

Raihan keeps gushing about what a team they'd make. Kabu nods, pretends this migraine isn’t sneaking up on him hard and fast. Ten minutes later, and he can barely see Raihan at all, a giant blur in his place and a vibrating ring around it.

He should say something before the pain hits. Because it will, and then this really will become a problem.

Maybe he can text Raihan.

Kabu fishes out his phone, half drops it lips pursed. It was a stupid idea anyway, he'll never be able to read what he's writing in this state. Raihan pauses when he sees the older man pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Am I giving you a headache, old timer?”

“A migraine. Actually.”

Raihan chuckles. Realises seconds later when he clocks the way Kabu's hand is drumming against the table, half shaking, that actually he really _is_ having a migraine, and at no point did was he able to get a word in edgewise.

“Fuck.” Kabu smirks at that. Yes, that about sums up this situation. “Shit, okay, let’s go.”

Kabu doesn’t protest when a strong pair of arms hoists him to his feet. Nor does he do anything to stop Raihan when he’s walking them both out of the café.

“Wanna hold my hand while we cross the street, mister?” The youth is teasing. Not treating Kabu like others might; content to rip the shit out of him even like this.

It’s refreshing.

“And if people get the wrong idea?” He does nothing when one of Raihan's hands finds his, squeezing.

“No one’s gonna think you’re my sugar daddy, old man. No offence, but you don’t exude that kind of desperation...”

“That’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.” That earns a laugh from Raihan. And another squeeze.

“If anything I’d probably be _your_ sugar daddy. Sugar boy? Sugar _lad?”_ Kabu is chuckling despite the pain.

“What would you buy me?”

“Oh, all the things. I'd spoil you rotten.”

“That's nice...”

Raihan is soon hailing a taxi. Kabu lets himself be half-lifted inside. He feels feeble as hell in this moment. Old, and past it, and totally not someone Raihan would look twice at –– so why is Raihan staring..?

He could ask, but that's never going to happen.

Kabu closes his eyes a minute into the flight. And scrunches them up when the sun dares to peek out from behind a cloud. A kaleidoscope of pain bounces behind his eyelids.

All of a sudden darkness soothes his aching head, something warm being slipped onto it and over his eyes. That's... Raihan's headband isn't it?

Raihan who notices the smallest details, and acts so swiftly. Of course he's as observant off the pitch, it stands to reason.

Kabu wonders that else Raihan notices.

“You know you’re gonna have to owe me something in return, right? That’s how this whole thing works. Totally transactional.” The dragon tamer is whispering; for Kabu's benefit, and just in case the taxi driver were to overhear. He leans in a little closer then. “I’ll settle for a selfie of you in a jockstrap...”

Kabu had assumed they’d been joking this entire time — and they had been — so Raihan’s suddenly seductive voice, so low in his ear is a... _surprise._

The veteran clears his throat before huffing. Kabu... doesn't always win.

* * *

They're stopping just outside Kabu's front garden, and Raihan is tipping the driver handsomely for the door to door service. Kabu reminds himself to pay his colleague back later. When his head isn't splitting in two and when he can actually see straight.

Kabu wordlessly hands Raihan his keys, and the front door is being unlocked.

Before he can grunt his usual 'no shoes' policy, Raihan is already slipping down to in his socks and bending down to unlace Kabu's running shoes.

Kabu's heart skips a beat. Wonders with some paranoia if Raihan can notice that as well. And its at this point he stumbles, heart now hammering at the way a pair of strong arms stops him from hurtling to the floor.

“Careful now. Don't tell me I have to carry you?”

Kabu lifts the headband over one eye, cheeks aflame.

“No. I'm perfectly fine.” He thrusts said headband back into Raihan's hands and shuffles toward the kitchen. More importantly towards the medicine cabinet.

Tamer of dragons that he is, Raihan has zero experience with crotchety geezers.

He'd probably lose his hand if he tried to scratch Kabu's chin. The mental picture is enough to have him chewing his lip, trying his best to quell a smile before it gets the chance to fully commit.

He follows the man through the house, keeping a respectful distance. Though before Kabu can do so, Raihan is already fetching a glass of water for him to take his pills. Kabu takes it, takes his pills, and sets the empty glass on the counter.

They stand in awkward silence for a moment, but its interrupted when Centiskorch rounds the corner with a sleepy yawn.

“You let them out at home too?” Raihan smiles. Kabu merely nods.

Some trainers do, and some don't. Raihan can't understand the ones who don't. What's the point of having a team if they're not getting under your feet, or waking you up at three in the morning to bring you an interesting leaf they found?

Centiskorch shuffles over to its master, and Kabu does nothing when it scales the length of him, resting its chin on his shoulder. It then lets out a pitiful whine.

“I fed you twice before I left, don't give me that...” He tuts. Raihan stifles a giggle at the way Kabu's face softens at a subsequent drawn out whine of higher pitch. “Give me strength...”

Centiskorch is once again fed, and Kabu is turning to his houseguest.

“I'll be fine from here. You must have plans...” Raihan says nothing. He's in Kabu's house. Kabu's cute little minimalist house with the slippers by the door. The man even has a tiny bronze Torkoal dangling from his house keys for crying out loud.

Raihan longs to come home to a place like this after a hard day. Somewhere soft and personal; not a penthouse with a cleaning staff. He imagines Kabu can cook. Imagines the delicious aroma of some kind of dish from Hoenn catching his nostrils as he crosses the threshold.

_Honey, I'm home!_

Raihan is reaching, and he knows it.

But he's reluctant to leave that now he's here.

“Walk in a straight line, and I might consider it...”

Kabu, because he's absolutely fine, takes a step. And sways before catching himself. Raihan's smirk doubles.

“Fine. But I'm going for a bath...” That angry little old man face is back, and Raihan forgets how much he loves it until it's there. How much he wants to kiss every line and wrinkle.

Centiskorch follows Kabu into the bathroom, and Raihan can't help but ask why. Apparently it knows the move 'scald' which makes filling the bath that much easier.

Kabu's bath is one of his rare indulgences. Copper and unfeasibly large, it keeps the heat and is spacious enough for him to stretch out and then some. Raihan tests the water with his hand. And promptly recoils with a yelp.

“That's got to be boiling! In the **literal** sense.” He's blowing on his fingertips. Kabu snorts, an unflinching hand testing the water.

“I thought you were meant to be part dragon...” Raihan pouts then. “Can't handle the heat..?”

“Are we still talking about the bath water?” His hands are on Mister Kabu's collar, thumbing the fabric. Centiskorch gives the pair a withering look before leaving the room.

Kabu can't quite keep the smirk off his face; can't quite school it away whenever Raihan's around. His hands shoo the youth's, eyes motioning towards the door.

“Let me know if you need a hand—?” The door clicks shut behind him. “Or two..?” The door then locks.

Raihan decides then to make himself at home. Centiskorch trundles behind him like a guard dog, an all too familiar frown on its face. Do trainers pick their Pokémon because they remind them of themselves on a deeper more subconscious level? Or do Pokémon and their trainers just end up looking like each other after a while?

Either way, Centiskorch has Kabu's impassive stare, and it's downright freaky.

* * *

Kabu feels the migraine finally start to abate. That heavy throbbing is just a dull ache now. On it's way out, then. He lets himself slip under the water all the way, pausing for a moment. There's something about the extreme heat that grounds him. Pain is a sensation, nothing more. Is always temporary. He sits up again, a few fingers tracing the scar across his chest.

Kabu tells people when they ask to mind their business. When they probe, as they often do, he'll relent as far as admitting that a fire Pokémon was responsible. The mystery of it has his fanbase all aquiver. An Arcanine maybe? He's from Hoenn, so maybe it was Groudon?!

No, it wasn't. And Kabu is never going to admit in a million years that he'd fallen asleep in the back garden as a teenager, and woke up with a scream when something as boring as a Slugma decided to crawl on top of him and take a nap.

Kabu attracts random wild Pokémon. Lets them follow him home. One night, he'll say. It's never one night.

That Slugma is now a Magcargo; lives in Hoenn with his niece, anyway.

Kabu's thoughts stray quickly enough – as they often do – back to Raihan. Raihan with the legs that seem go on for days. Raihan with the smile that begs to be kissed. Kabu sinks under the water again with a frown. He's tried to ignore this for... six months now? This fluttery teenage feeling. This desire to wrap his arms around someone decidedly Raihan-shaped after a long day. And of course Kabu isn't nearly as gentlemanly in his head. That's where he can be deviant – disgusting. Downright perverted.

The night so often ends with a hand wrapped around himself, and a few fingers stuffed inside for good measure. Not as big as Raihan's, but they'll do in a pinch. And he's thinking about Hammerlocke's heartthrob, there in his bed. Alone. The thought suddenly depresses him. The reminder that he's been single for... a little longer than he would like.

Kabu is the epitome of self-sufficient. Doesn't need looking after. Doesn't need someone to coo and make a fuss of him.

Still, it would be nice. Nice to curl up next to a warm body, and spend a little too long of an evening kissing and being held. Kabu will tell Raihan he has an early morning planned. Raihan will tell him he doesn't care, hands roaming, and tongue wet against his neck.

Kabu starts thinking of terrible ways to instigate some sort of bed share.

_Stay the night, I’m a frail old man._

There’s a special place reserved in hell for that kind of thinking.

And it’s irrelevant anyway because Kabu has been in the bath now close to an hour, and Raihan will be gone by now. Back in Hammerlocke.

Back in Hammerlocke and not on his couch watching University Challenge with a Litten on his lap.

Kabu is halfway to making a u-turn and out of the room again when the youth clocks him.

“Feeling better?”

Litten stretches with a sleepy noise. Raihan's hand is on the back of it's head, scritching.

“Yes.” It's not a lie, the pain is gone. Kabu suddenly feels very hyperaware of himself in these silk pyjamas.

“Well, good! You had me worried for a second... I googled migraine triggers anyway...” Chocolate? Check. Caffeine? Triple check. His perfume had probably set the poor guy off as well. “It was my fault, so... I couldn’t just leave without knowing you’d be okay.”

“That’s— very kind of you. But I’m fine.” In a hypothetical scenario, Kabu would play on his all day long. The reality as it happens isn’t quite so fulfilling. The worry on Raihan's face kills any satisfaction.

"Didn't know you had one of these." Raihan is scratching Litten's chin, the tiny Pokémon purring loudly and kneading his hoodie.

"They aren't all that popular." Kabu explains. Goes further and mentions the day he all but stuffed it in his coat. "Black cats. The first to be abandoned, and the last to be adopted." Litten is drooling on Raihan's hand now, in a world of comfort. "He likes you."

"I like him." The cat finally sits up, stretches, and hops off. Raihan turns to Kabu then. "You couldn't have picked him up here." It isn't a question. Littens, and a few other breeds of Pokémon native to Alola aren't allowed past quarantine and into Galar.

"I... may have snuck him through the border."

"May have?" Kabu gives him a bored look. They both know the answer, so why is he teasing?

"Anyway, tell me how you came by that Dratini no one else is supposed to know about?"

Raihan freezes.

"I was only teasing. I didn't really know you had one of those." Kabu reaches into his pocket, takes a cigarette from the pack. "But now I do." That smirk should come with a government health warning. "I won't tell, stop looking so worried."

"M'not worried..." Raihan mumbles. "And I won't tell either."

"I know you won't."

Raihan 'hmph's at that; watches Kabu light that cigarette.

"If _Leon_ asked for a Dratini..." His voice sounds petulant. Raihan knows it. Kabu is chuckling anyway. "Chairman Rose would bend over backwards to change the rules."

"Would probably bend over backwards anyway if his champion asked..."

"Right?" Raihan's leg is bouncing. "And don't even get me started on his hair!"

"Oh, please. Tell me why you hate it."

"Well he copied me, for starters!" Kabu is sniggering now. "I was tempted to shave it all off one day, see if he fucking did the same."

"Don't do that." The hand not holding Kabu's cigarette finds its way into Raihan's dreads. He pauses; knows he's overstepped the mark when the youth shivers.

He clears his throat taking a nervous drag. _Hands to yourself, you old goat._ He thinks.

Tendrils of smoke are curling out of the man's nostrils before a cloud of it escapes his mouth. Raihan imagines all that smoke between his legs. Imagines Kabu’s crooked smirk blowing the stuff all over his cock before it slides down to the base. Throat full... Eyes watering...

The dragon tamer taps a quick search into his phone to distract himself.

“Science Daily says just five cigarettes a day can provoke a migraine attack.”

“Yeah, but it makes me look cool.”

Raihan laughs hard.

“Your funeral, old man.” Kabu shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping. Raihan watches the smoke as it flows out of him, as it hangs around both their heads before the old man is swatting it away.

“Sorry, I really should open a window...”

_Blow it in my mouth, geezer._

“Yeah, you should.” He gives Kabu a look which he hopes is taunting. Sexual. “Speaking of funerals...” Raihan waits for the veteran to open a window before he’s gesturing to what seems to be a stack of Parker Pens on the nearby desk. “How many life insurance policies do you have exactly?”

“None, yet. They’re good pens, Raihan.”

Of course they are.

”Well, tell me where you want your ashes scattering. My dragons and I will even do the cremation for free.” They’re flirting, right? Kabu is laughing, so maybe...

“And what if I want a Viking funeral?” Kabu takes a drag. “To be set on fire at sea.” Another drag. “And inconvenience a cruise liner. Full of rich people.”

Raihan is laughing so hard his stomach hurts.

“You don’t have to stay, you know. I’m alright now.” Kabu’s expression is wistful for a second.

_I'm giving you an out. Take it._

“I’ll have you know I’m enjoying the day time television. It’s not all about you, Mister Kabu...” Raihan makes himself comfortable on the sofa. Mister Kabu flicks the ash from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray, a new fondness for Raihan growing as he screams answers at the television.

"They can't hear you." He hums. Raihan nudges him playfully, eyes still glued to the screen.

_"If 1,1 is the second row of Pascal's Triangle, what is the seventh row?"_

Raihan snorts after ten seconds when the quiz master tries to chivvy them along.

"1, 6, 15, 20, 15, 6, 1." He then mutters, legs spread apart and heels bouncing on the carpet. Both teams fail to answer, but Raihan was correct as the answer is being pointed out some seconds later.

Raihan has always been good at math. Math doesn't lie. Math he can wrap his head around. The way Mister Kabu is staring, however...

"What?" Raihan smiles.

"Nothing." He lies, about to light another cigarette. Raihan's hand comes up to stop him. "Yes?" Kabu narrows his eyes.

"That's very bad for you." There's a charged kind of air now between the two of them. Kabu's eyes are practically daring the youth to make a move. Aren't they? Raihan wonders if anyone's taken the time to write a Mister Kabu instruction manual, and if not - why not?

Kabu flicks the lighter shut with a tut. Slips the cigarette back into the packet.

"Better?" He arches an eyebrow. Raihan beams, nodding.

That smile will be the death of him.

Raihan is channel-hopping now. Kabu rolls his eyes when they land on some kind of sell-o-vision network.

_"You can even make pizza in it! And the non-stick coating means the cheese slides right off!"_

"Need me one of those..." Raihan whispers, earning a laugh from the older man. The channel changes again. Something about magnetic false eyelashes. "And these..." Kabu elbows him. Raihan elbows back. Another channel change. This time an inflatable king-size bed purporting to be just as comfortable and supportive as pocket-sprung. "And _that."_

"So your future, according to these purchases, would be..."

"A bed-bound fatty with amazing eyelashes, yes."

Kabu's laughter is the silent almost whistling kind.

"You can't afford all this." He then says. Raihan is about to say yes he can when Kabu continues. "Not if you're planning on sugaring me that is." The silence is suddenly very thick. Oppressive. "I have expensive tastes."

"Tell me more." His knee is then touching Kabu's. Neither of the men make a point of moving.

"Cigarettes are pricy, you know..."

"No, that's a deal breaker. But I'll buy you nicotine patches."

Kabu sighs. "You drive a hard bargain."

Raihan can't tell if this is the moment or not, but he's resting his cheek on the veteran's shoulder. Maybe it is, because Kabu isn't pushing him off.

"Mister Kabu?"

"Yes, Raihan?"

_Can I suck your dick on this threadbare sofa?_

"Nothing."

* * *

Raihan awakens when he feels himself being nudged. He’s comfy however, and clings harder to the body he’s wrapped himself around.

“Raihan...”

Oh shit. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa, hadn't he..?

Kabu tries to disentangle himself, but the youth pretends instead to be asleep. In for a penny...

“I know you’re awake.”

Oh.

“You can’t blame me.”

“For what?”

It's now or never.

“Taking any chance I can get to touch you? Mister Kabu?”

Raihan knows he’s pushing it — but the older man isn’t recoiling in disgust. Isn’t telling him to get off. Is no longer moving at all actually.

Raihan's grip tightens.

“And why would you want to do that?” Kabu’s expression is once again hard to read. One could call it fed up. Or playful. Or aroused.

Really this man is a fucking enigma.

“Why _wouldn’t_ I?” Raihan counters, one of his legs slipping between Kabu’s. The veteran sighs, his hips scooting forward on instinct. Grinding if only for a split second.

“Raihan...”

Kabu's tone is telling him to be careful, but Raihan is way past that.

He presses his face into the crook of Kabu's neck. Inhales the scent of soap, and aftershave, and the slightest hint of cigarette smoke all of which cling to the man’s skin. Raihan wants to taste it. Taste him. He's wanted it for so long, and he's closer than he's ever been in his life.

And so he asks.

“Can I... kiss you? Mister Kabu?” The question hangs in the air. Kabu is probably thinking how best to rebuff him. Of the most delicate way he can say no, without embarrassing the poor boy.

Except the next few words out of Kabu’s mouth cause the world to come to a skidding halt.

“I don’t know, _can_ you..?”

Raihan is moving quickly, full lips finding thin — gasping when eager teeth return each and every bite. Oh fuck, this is... Oh, and Kabu is on top. Okay.

Raihan's hands find a firm pair of hips. Urges them on as Kabu ruts against him.

There’s the question of condoms. And Raihan is only teasing because he has a string of them in his pocket, but Kabu is directing him to search the drawers of a nearby table.

“Wait.” His hand then finds Raihan’s wrist. “I think those could be... check the date?”

Raihan does with a low whistle.

“How bad..?”

“November.” Kabu nods — not so bad. “Five years ago.”

"Ah...”

Those fevered first time kisses are over, and Raihan is pulling him down into a longer, softer affair.

“I have plenty...” Another kiss. “But... Mister Kabu, I hope this doesn't mean you’re rusty...” Kabu tuts as his pyjama top is deftly unbuttoned. Fingertips find that scar. Trace it gently. Kabu shudders with the next kiss.

“You’ll see.”

The promise has Raihan stirring in his pants, those hands now trembling. Kabu takes his chance, finger and thumb inching the zipper down before wordlessly shedding Raihan of his hoodie. Expression impassive as always.

But a quick look south at the tent between Kabu's legs tells Raihan everything he needs to know about that look. He files it away in his memory. Wants to force it out of the man in a public place if he can one day...

“Who’s giving, by the way..?”

“I’m not fussy.” Kabu says. They're almost there, but the older man begins folding their clothes.

“Seriously?”

“Patience.” Kabu shakes his head. “Kids these days...” Raihan’s cock twitches at that. And it was meant to apparently, because Kabu’s smirk is growing, eyes firmly on that bulge between his legs.

Raihan has seen this kind of teasing behaviour before — in other tops mostly. The idea that Kabu might be that way inclined has him hard and weeping already. A hiss surprises Raihan when it escapes his mouth, the reason being that Kabu has reached inside his underwear and is toying with him with a calloused thumb.

“You're large in every way, aren't you?” Kabu is musing. The length isn't a surprise given Raihan's height. The girth however...

“Scared?”

Kabu's lips quirk at that, and he gives the cock in his hand a firm squeeze. Raihan whimpers.

“Not at all.”

There isn't a lot of further planning or explanation — they both know that Kabu will be taking this dick tonight. Half a bottle of massage oil later, and now in Kabu's bed, Raihan is slipping a fourth finger into that clinging heat.

The veteran lifts the condom packet to his mouth when he's ready. Raihan watches him take the corner between his teeth and pull, tearing it open. He uses this moment to slip that last piece of clothing down his hips, unaware and frankly uncaring to where it is he's thrown it.

Kabu takes his time rolling the condom down. Raihan tries his best not to look cocky. Fails.

Its when Kabu is guiding the youth onto his back that Raihan's expression shifts. So he's going to—

Oh goodness...

Steady muscular thighs straddle him, and Raihan lies there powerless as that god-given arse sinks down. Swallows him. Kabu lets out the faintest sound at the halfway mark and Raihan's hands are all over him.

“Hey, if it's too much—”

Except it isn't because in a few more seconds Kabu is sitting flush at the base, panting.

“Too much...” He's chuckling. “I paused because you feel good. You’re not going to break me that easily...” Kabu shakes his head, a few beads of sweat collecting on his temples.

“Just checking, old man...” Raihan props himself up on his elbows to kiss him. Kabu smiles into the kiss, sucks at Raihan's lower lip as soon as he pulls away, dragging him back for another.

Raihan's hand, still slick from earlier, is wrapping around Kabu's cock. Not as large as Raihan's — and who's is? But it's a delightful size regardless. Thick, curved, and ending in a plump tip Raihan wishes he could bend down and suck.

He's not nearly so supple, however.

Kabu's hips set the pace, his hands steadying themselves on the other man's chest. Raihan's grip leaves that wonderful cock with much reluctance, but it has better places to be. Both hands are soon squeezing Kabu's wrists as he feels himself being rode harder and faster into the mattress.

It isn't helping at all that the handsome old bastard is grinning like he's won the jackpot.

“Too much?” He teases. Raihan's knuckles are white, his grip on Kabu increasing as he feels something familiar start to pool in his core. Feels it try to rise and crest.

Kabu's bouncing now, that beautiful arse taking every inch Raihan has to offer. Raihan's hands are soon slipping down to grasp those muscular thighs. Thighs he's fantasised about burying his head between on more than one occasion.

“Fuck...”

“No need to curse...” Raihan lets out an anguished moan when the man on top of him slows down. And stops. Raihan sobs. So close. “Shhh...” Kabu is rolling his hips then, forcing shuddered gasps from the dragon tamer. “I want to take my time with you.” He's kissing Raihan now; deeper than before. “Let me **savour** this.” He whispers.

“You... know we can do this again right?” Raihan groans when Kabu slams down again, the sound like a wet clap against his skin. It's a nice sound. “Right?”

Kabu stops moving.

_“Raihan...”_

Raihan feels his stomach lurch. The painful pre-cursor to heartbreak.

“No. Don't you dare.” He's sitting up, drawing the other man closer. “You don't get to do this. You don't get to **dump** me halfway through _—_ ”

“You're a smart boy.” Kabu pauses, looks as though he's about to lift himself off. The dragon tamer catches his wrists. No, his eyes say. “You know this can't _work—”_

“Why not?” His voice sounds more loud and desperate than he'd meant for it to.

Kabu looks calm and measured even now.

“The press won't leave it alone. Not until every last detail is out there. I'll be the one who took advantage—”

“And I'll be the victim?” Kabu nods. Raihan feels a rare kind of anger boil in his chest. “So you're telling me... you care more about what _might_ hit the press, _hypothetically.”_ Kabu winces but says nothing. “And less about us? ”Still, he doesn't answer. “You really know how to make a guy feel special. Arsehole.”

“It wasn't my intention—”

“What is it they say about the road to hell? What it's paved with again, because I forget—”

“ _Raihan...”_ That voice is low and full of warning. Show me some fucking respect is what it says.

Raihan will do no such thing. Raihan stares him down.

“You can't seriously think you can take me home to meet your parents.”

Raihan scoffs.

“Well?”

“Okay, we'll call that a... stumbling block to tackle at a later date.” He leans up and kisses Kabu's chin. Notes how the gesture is enough to melt that frown. “And before you say anything else, _arsehole,_ I can deal with the press. I have... stories about a certain Chairman in my back pocket that'll take any spotlight off us.”

“You do?” Kabu then yelps when his back is hitting the mattress, Raihan gliding back into him in one slow and steady thrust.

“I was saving it for if he found out about that Dratini. But... This is more important.” Raihan hums, lips trailing down the man's chest; press kisses to scar tissue. “So are we good?” Kabu gasps when his nipple receives a particularly hard suck before that one pointed tooth of Raihan's is raking over it.

His punishment.

“Yes...”

That one word is enough for Raihan to start up a pace, filling Kabu's arse with long, torturously slow strokes. The older man lays there taking it. Raihan would ruin Rose's career for him. For _them._

It's... a lot to think about.

Raihan is then going faster, and Kabu feels his legs rise up to wrap around those spindly hips. Deeper is what that means, and Raihan indulges the request, sliding down to the base. Angles Kabu below him so that it's hitting deeper.

He swallows every wanton moan, his tongue and dick both buried blissfully at either end.

Kabu prefers to ride. But in this moment he'll gladly let Raihan take the reigns. Gladly let Raihan fold him in half, knees either side and framing his face. Raihan feels even more exquisite at this angle, and probably the most embarrassing moan to date passes Kabu's lips when he's hitting especially deep.

Raihan does it again. Another moan. Kabu looks away, face becoming redder than his training uniform.

"Fuck, you're so shy..." Raihan is kissing him then, swallowing each cry and mewl as his hips slam harder. Faster. Kabu's hands are on his arms, nails digging. Raihan knows he won't last long. Not in this tight arse, and not with Kabu writhing and making those sounds beneath him.

He breaks away from that mouth, nuzzles the veteran's ear instead.

"You're amazing." He's whispering. And Kabu is. Raihan can feel those nails digging harder.

His hand slips between them, takes that cock and plays with it. Kabu shakes. Pants.

"You close..?" The youth teases. His lips find Kabu's earlobe, sucking as his hand speeds up, hips battering that prostate all the while. "Come for me, Mister Kabu..." It isn't an order, more of a plea the way Raihan's voice wavers.

The cock in his hand flexes, throbs. So close.

"Cover me in it..." And Kabu does seconds later, ropes of white contrasting against dark skin. "Fuck... _Fuck."_ And the way that clinging heat wraps around him — pulsates with each aftershock — Raihan can’t help but follow.

Condom tied, and thrown in a nearby bin, the pair curl up, exhausted. Kabu knows he'll feel this in his back tomorrow; doesn't really care. He puts a cigarette to his lips, lighting it despite the frown he's receiving.

"Last one. Promise..."

Raihan kisses the veteran's shoulder. Bites it moments later.

"It _better_ be."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it if you got this far! Please leave a kudos if you did, and drop a comment if you have the time! ^_^  
> Chairman Rose’s secret is gonna be addressed in Wishing Star FYI lol


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